The Watcher
by HardyGirls
Summary: When Joe is captured on a routine surveillance assignment Frank makes it his business to track down those responsible.  The chilling reality for Frank and his father is far from the expected...
1. Chapter 1

**The Watcher**

_b__y: HardyGirls_

_Disclaimer: They're not mine but it's nice to dream…_

_-00-_

And so it went on; the days after Joe had been hurt.

Though worried for the younger of the brothers the close knit family and friends couldn't help but carry a sinking feeling for the pain that was Frank Hardy. Their gentle prodding to eat or to catch some sleep was consistently met with the same intense brown eyes, dead with disbelief, deep with fury, his stoic iron will written all over his tense muscles.

"Frank, you have to eat something…"

"I'm fine, I'm not hungry"

"Rest then, try and sleep, we'll call you if …"

"later, I can sleep later…"

The boys and their father had faced many situations through their passion for sleuthing and more than once they'd been beaten, kidnapped, poisoned, trapped, but this time it was different. This time Joe had born the brunt of the attack and Fenton Hardy couldn't recollect a time he'd been sicker rescuing anyone, let alone his precious boy. Boy, man, it made no difference, he was his flesh and blood, one of a pair of the most precious parts of his life, his greatest achievement, his greatest joy.

More than once he'd regretted their interest in his work and more than once he wished he'd tried harder to discourage them, wished he'd seen this day coming. In his heart though he knew no matter what he'd done they'd have followed in his footsteps; it was in their blood. He'd reconciled himself to that fact trying instead to teach them to be the best and the safest they could be. He knew he'd failed.

There was little Callie could do to help, relegated as always to being the ever watchful friend, offering support where she could and biting her tongue when they lashed out. Not Fenton so much, he had the wisdom of years that let him exercise more self control, but Frank, well, Frank was a different story. No two brothers could ever have been better friends than these two. She'd often thought that even if they'd been born twins the bond couldn't have been any stronger. She oscillated between worrying for their continued wellbeing but in her heart she panicked should the day ever come when they might actually come out on the losing side and one of them would be lost to the other. That day might have actually come and the pain was crushing her.

She wondered if Iola had still been alive if things might have been different now. Joe had become so much more daring, more headstrong since he'd lost her. Deep down she'd often thought that he had a death wish, not actually caring if he put himself in harms way, after all, what did he have to lose? As the months had dragged by Joe had become calmer. He'd never be the same again though, you never were after something like that but with the loving support of his brother and father slowly they'd chipped away at the stony exterior he'd erected and brought him back to the land of the living. He couldn't die today, not today.

Frank sat, head in hands, eyes closed, concentrating on nothing. The anger in him was so strong it was exhausting him and he knew that inevitably it would be his body that'd give up before his will power did. He wasn't going to give in though, he had to go on. The dull ache in his side was nothing compared to the rage in his heart; every beat drumming the anger deeper into his soul.

On the face of it this case had been open and shut, simple, simple, simple. Something they'd done a hundred times before. Perhaps that was the problem, perhaps that's why they'd relaxed their guard.

"God Frank, I'm not exactly a kid anymore, I do know how to do this on my own you know? It's broad daylight, I'll be in a normal busy street, it's not like I'd even be heading off to some secluded place… broad daylight Frank, I can do this."

He could still hear Joe's angst from yesterday. Had it only been yesterday? Just a simple surveillance job. Drive, sit, watch, take the photo's, come back and report to their father. Open. Shut. No contact with the mark had been required. All they wanted was a photographic record of who was coming and going from the club. Simple stuff for the seasoned detectives.

Reluctantly Frank let him go, knowing that Joe was a fine operator on his own, and he really did need to comb through the files he had before him before their father returned. He was counting on them to have the leg work done by then. So they did what they normally wouldn't do. Split up.

It had been hours before Frank sat back stretching from the task before him. Yawning he made his way to the kitchen to make coffee, and that's when he saw the clock. Joe had been gone for almost four hours. With a start he wondered how he'd missed that, usually he was a meticulous time keeper, something his brother was always grumbling about especially when Frank would wake him five minutes before the alarm clock went off in the morning. He checked the front of the house hoping to see their van in the driveway, had he missed him when he'd come home? Trying to reassure himself he quickly made his way to their lab in the basement. Maybe Joe had come in the back way and had already started developing photos. Heart in mouth he called out, only to be met with silence.

Taking the stairs two at a time he made a beeline for radio. He stopped for a moment wondering if he should do this, call him up worrying. If he was close to the mark it could break his cover. He changed his mind calling his father instead. After the usual radio protocols had been followed he got straight to the point.

"Dad, it's Frank, - that surveillance on George Trellan at his club in the main street? Well Joe went to do the job on his own but it's been over four hours and he's not back yet."

"Have you called him yet? No wait, you could blow his cover."

"Mmm… that's what I was thinking too. I'll call Biff and Chet and get them to pick me up; I don't have a good feeling about this."

"Slow down Frank, it's not necessarily a problem; it could just be taking a while. I know you're worried about him being out on his own, so am I but he can handle this I'm sure. If you go checking up on him he'll be furious with you."

"I know Dad but… what if…"

"Look I'm at the city limits now, I'll swing by the area and see what's doing."

They signed off, his father promising to keep him informed. Frank headed for the kitchen to make the coffee he'd been planning trying to shake off his worry. He shook his head.

"C'mon Frank, give the boy a break, he's probably not able to get out of there, that's what the problem is, of course! He's stuck and can't move till they do." He took a deep breath and let out a sigh. If that was the case then why the nagging doubt he couldn't shake?

Taking his coffee back to the office he tried to keep his mind occupied with the files he'd been studying but in the end he gave up and paced the front porch instead. After what seemed like hours he heard the sound of his father's car turning into the driveway. He had the driver's side door open before his father could cut the engine. The question didn't need to be asked. Frank could see the answer on his father's face.

"Get in, I've spotted your van, it's empty, really empty. Joe's been taken."

Frank's head was swimming. "What? What do you mean, how do you…"

"Get in! I'll tell you on the way!"

Frank barely had his door closed before his father had the car rolling again.

"You were right Frank, something has happened, the van it's clean, I mean really clean, you've got nothing left, all your equipment, maps, backpacks the lot, it's been stripped bare."

Frank felt his stomach drop. "He's been kidnapped and they've wiped the whole van clean…"

His father nodded without looking at him. "It's not a simple robbery, I've called the police already, they're combing the area – I left to come and get you."

Frank clenched his teeth. "We'll find him Dad; we'll get him back…" He was almost light headed with the shock, unable to explain why this time felt different. There were numerous times in their case work that one or both of them had been grabbed, tied up or locked up or plain knocked out, but this felt bad, very bad.

"I shouldn't have let him go alone" he murmured.

"It's not your fault Frank, you can't be with him 24/7 in this job; Joe's growing up…"

Frank closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head.

The surveillance might have been covert to start with but now the van and the surrounding area was filled with police cars and officers. The boy's van was parked on a side street so Joe must have been watching from the rear window. All around the area people bustled about busily, shops were trading and the loading dock of George Trellan's club was wide open with men unloading boxes in plain sight. Nothing was out of place, except the van was indeed bare and it didn't take a rocket scientist to know that they weren't going to find any prints. Anything that wasn't nailed down had been removed, including the radio. It looked barren and lifeless. He and Joe had always loved their wheels but now Frank could hardly bare to look at it. He forced himself too, pushing his thoughts away to allow himself to concentrate on searching for clues. He kept trying to mentally take a step back and look at the interior with an objective mind. Was there something out of the ordinary? Then he found it. Groping under the dashboard almost to the floor his fingers felt for the hidey hole he and Joe used to stash valuables in it. With a rush or adrenalin he realized his hands had found a camera. Carefully he pulled it out and with a wry smile showed his father.

"It's Joe's second camera… he was using two camera's." Frank smiled proudly and turning the camera over in his hands murmured "you did good little brother, you did good…"

"Two cameras? I don't understand." His father cut in reaching for it.

"Joe and I came up with this plan about a year ago. Joe got sick to death of us losing camera's if we got confronted doing stuff like this. So we worked out a plan to take the first film's worth on this one and then stash it and continue on with another camera. If worst case scenario happened and we had our "camera" taken off us or destroyed then it was unlikely that anyone would have expected you had two. Especially once you'd heard the whining Joe could do about having his camera taken off him, anyone would think it was the most valuable possession in the world.

Fenton Hardy turned to the Forensic Officer beside him. "We've got a camera with a full film." It's all he had to say, with a swift nod the officer put his hands out to take the precious evidence and told the pair he'd get it developed immediately.

The search continued throughout the day with more and more searchers being pulled in to help. Frank and Fenton had worked together, not letting either one out of the others sight. They worked in silence, looking keenly at every detail, hoping to find something that would tell them the way he'd been taken, just a direction, something to start the trail.

It was so different, everyone could feel it now. Like an ominous cloud hanging over the area no-one argued that Joe might just simply have gone to get a drink and something to eat, maybe even answered the call of nature; everyone knew that this was deadly serious and the young detective had definitely fallen in harms way.

A shout had Fenton and Frank sprinting back to the van. Chief Collig had arrived at the scene and was marshalling his men. Fenton slowed, trying to hear what was being said over his own heavy breathing. When the Chief saw them he broke off his instructions and hurried over to meet them.

"Frank, Fenton, I'm so sorry about Joe. We've got every available man on it though but I've got to tell you, it's not looking good."

Fenton nodded grimly. "I know, there's something I can't put my finger on yet…"

The Chief nodded sympathetically. "I know what you mean Fenton but we'll get him back, but there's something you have to do for me. You and Frank, you need to go home and leave this to us."

Frank spluttered, his anger once again rising. "Now wait just a minute! You can't honestly expect my father and I to stop searching? – with everyone else out here as well, you want us to go _home_?"

Chief Collig put his hands up to placate the steamed up youth. "Frank wait, if Joe is being held for a ransom of the like then eventually his kidnappers are going to want to talk to you." He wanted to add "hopefully" to the end of that sentence but stopped himself. The thought of someone killing Joe without demanding anything was too much to think about now. "You need to get home and wait for a call, they could be calling now and you wouldn't know it."

Fenton nodded. "You're right, c'mon Frank, we've got to get back." He stopped as his son started to interject again. "Now Frank, argue in the car but we've got to move."

Chief Collig squeezed Fenton's shoulder. "We'll get him back Fenton, I promise you, we won't stop looking…"

-00-

Entering the ICU had been hard. He thought he was ready for whatever condition Joe was in but when confronted with reality he started to shake. If he'd not been told already he'd hardly have recognized his younger brother; his stomach lurched at the sight. The beating Joe had endured had been thorough and Frank panicked at the thought he would have been conscious for even a minute of it. His face was swollen, his eyes puffed up and closed, livid bruising, some bleeding openly covering every square inch of his fair skin. He was covered by a soft cotton blanket to his waist and the continuing damage to his upper torso and arms was just as disturbing as his face. His fingers were bruised and swollen from being broken or dislocated. Around his sides the bruising was even worse and Frank felt ill at the thought of what his blankets were covering on the rest of his body.

"You can sit with him Frank" Frank turned to see a pretty blond nurse with shoulder length hair behind him. Her eyes were the same color as Joe's he thought to himself. Joe's eyes… would he still have eyes that could see after this… if he lived though it…

"Ummm… how…." Frank's mouth was dry and his jaws ached from clenching his teeth for so long. "How's my brother doing?"

The nurse reached out and gently squeezed his arm. "The doctors are doing all they can Frank, he's holding his own for now, sit with him, it'll do him good to know you're there."

Frank stared for a moment, his sluggish brain trying to absorb her words but the thing he couldn't understand was how she knew his name. Her voice was vaguely familiar but her face didn't give him any hints.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" he asked biting his lip and hoping he didn't offend her if he really should have remembered her.

She smiled gently. "I'm Pamela; I've nursed you on a number of occasions, Joe too. It's heartening to see you so healthy for once." Her gaze held his eyes almost coaxing him to sit and stay a while. There was a depth of understanding in them he rarely saw in anyone. Her eyes were very familiar.

"Me? When? I should remember you then…"

She nodded. "It's ok; when you're in here with us it's rare if you remember too much about those around you in the first day or so. Once you're stable and transferred to a room you don't see the ICU staff again; but I remember you, you're a fighter Frank and Joe too, he'll come through this and so will you." Her hand hadn't left his arm and Frank finally realized just what he must look like to her being less than steady on his own feet.

"Oh… I… well, thank you and I'm sorry I didn't know you, really…"

"It's fine Frank, come sit down" She drew him to a comfortable chair that had been placed beside Joe's bed. The shock of seeing Joe's true condition was starting to sink in now and he was glad for the chance to not be standing.

"Can he hear me?" Frank asked quietly, not wanting to wake Joe into this reality if he didn't have to yet.

"He's heavily sedated, you won't wake him but sometimes just knowing your loved ones are around you it can help when you do start to wake up… it's always helped you when Joe's been here beside you." It was odd for Frank to be hearing this about himself so matter of factly. Pamela wasn't much older than him and far from flirting with him her gentleness was stirring feelings and snatches of thoughts that seemed faded and disjointed.

He turned back to Joe, reached out and carefully brushed his fringe back with his fingers. "Oh Joe, what have they done to you brother?" he murmured quietly. Gingerly he lifted Joe's hand and sandwiched it in his, not wanting to cause any extra pain to the abused fingers. He stroked the back of Joe's hand with his thumb in slow gentle strokes, willing for Joe to feel some kind of calming connection through the drugs. He had to know he wasn't alone; it was all Frank could do for now.

His father came in a couple of minutes later, giving Frank a little smile of encouragement. Fenton had already seen Joe in this state when he found him in the basement of the warehouse he'd been held in. For him, this was an improvement with the blood and dirt cleaned away.

"How are you doing?" he asked his eldest in a whisper.

Frank nodded. "I'm ok; it's Joe you should be thinking about."

The look in Fenton's eyes mocked Frank a little. "I worry for you both, you're no less important than Joe, even if he is in here… Did you see a doctor yet?"

"No, the doctor hasn't been in since I've been here."

"I meant for you Frank, I know you're hurt, I saw what happened, you have to look after yourself too, I'll stay here with Joe."

"There's no need Dad, I'm fine, just a little bruised is all, don't worry about me." He turned back to watch Joe again hoping his father would drop the subject.

Pamela listened to the exchange between father and son but kept her head down, opting to appear busy with a chart. So Frank had hurt himself after all. She made a mental note to speak to the doctor on his next round. It wouldn't do for injuries masked by adrenalin to go untreated and she realized not for the first time that the little pang she felt when she saw his vivid brown eyes again was growing.

Joe's breathing hitched slightly and the fingers in Franks hand twitched. He was waking. All eyes were on him, willing him to come out of it, willing him to know them. The concussion was just one of a number of serious injuries they were treating him for and this would be the first hurdle to get over.

"Joe, buddy, we're here for you" Frank whispered.

Joe moaned and laid still again his breath starting to come in short gasps.

"I'll page the doctor" Pamela told them, moving to the phone on the wall.

"Joe, son, it's all right now, we've got you, you're safe in hospital" Fenton tried to reassure him, tried to make the journey back to wakefulness as painless as he could.

The moans continued intermittently. Joe tried to turn his head towards them but yelped at the sudden movement. His eyes might have been open but they couldn't tell from the swelling.

"Hurtsssssss" He was becoming more agitated, trying to lift his hands to his face but Frank claimed one and his father the other.

"Hey little brother, don't do that now just relax, try and rest, you're safe now."

The moan became a sob and a tear rolled down his battered face. "Ohhhh…. Can't…hurtssss.."

Joe's doctor arrived at that point and ignoring Frank and his father started to examine Joe. "Easy son, it's going to be uncomfortable for a wile but you'll be fine in no time."

Frank wondered if the doctor actually believed those patronizing lines when he said them. Did he have any idea how hard it was to wake up injured?

Joe's moans stopped within seconds of the medication being injected into his IV. The doctor stood quietly holding his wrist and counting his pulse for a long moment. After looking at his watch a final time he carefully placed Joe's hand back down. Frank instantly took it back not wanting Joe to lose his touch.

"Mr. Hardy can I see you outside?" he asked in a hushed tone.

Frank was torn, he dearly wanted to hear the doctor's report but he didn't want Joe to be alone so he chose to stay put and concentrate his efforts in just being there for him.

"Frank it's good that he woke up" Pamela told him when the others had left the room. "He was speaking, and I know, he was in a lot of pain but he spoke and that's a good sign."

Frank listened and nodded, then, with his own fatigue catching up fast he rested his forehead on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes.

"Hey, are you ok?" Pamela was around to him in a second, pulling him upright in the chair. Frank couldn't help but grimace at the sudden movement.

"It's ok, just got thrown around a little, I'll be fine, nothing broken. I just needed to rest for a minute." Pamela eyed him carefully and he could see her eyes flick over him trying to judge for herself. He had to admit sitting down had let him stiffen and the aches and twinges he'd ignored were now starting to make their presence felt.

Unable to wait any longer Callie quietly entered the room. Frank turned and tried to smile a reassuring smile at her. It lightened her heart to see him making such an effort for her, she was sure he didn't feel that way really.

"You're dad wants to see you, I'll sit with him." She whispered, trying not to grimace at her first view of Joe up close. She swallowed thickly and tried to still her racing heart. This was worse than even she'd imagined.

Frank nodded and turning to Joe told him to stay strong, that he'd be back soon. He edged out of the chair and was a little surprised at just how sore he really was. Abused muscles did that and bouncing over the bonnet of a moving car made for some creative bruising at the best of times.

Callie watched him walk to the door, seeing the limp that had developed and glanced at the nurse that remained. Pamela raised her eyebrows as if to say "I know".

Back in the waiting room Fenton sat on his own, his forearms resting on his knees, his head bowed.

"Dad? What's the matter?" Frank asked worriedly reaching out to grasp his father by the shoulder.

Fenton looked up, his eyes weary. "Oh Frank, no, nothing's happened, the doctor just gave me a run down of Joe's injuries and what they're treating him for."

Frank took a deep breath. "Ok, so what'd he say?"

"It's been a professional beating. They've systematically gone over him and inflicted the most they could without actually killing him."

Frank felt his head swim suddenly and he shook his head to try and clear the feeling.

"Sit down son, there's more." When he had his son settled beside him he continued. "He's suffered any number of blows to his head; he's got broken ribs on both sides. His kidneys have been severely bruised…" He swallowed before going on. "The dark bruising up his sides, the doctor says it's been done deliberately, meaning they knew what they were doing to him. This wasn't done in a fit of rage; it's been very very thorough and calculated." He stopped for a moment, staring at the floor.

"Dad, is he… is he gonna be ok?" Frank had to ask, the bile was rising in his throat.

"We don't know; there's internal injuries, they're hoping some of it will stabilize, but if not,… then they have to operate and they don't want to be doing that. There are burns on his stomach and chest… he said it's consistent with a tazer having been used excessively."

Hot tears welled in Frank's eyes. His father's voice was fading as the buzzing in his ears became louder. He became aware only of his own breathing and the very real need to vomit. On shaky legs he stood and mumbled words to that effect before stumbling for the bathroom. He heaved and heaved, next to nothing in his stomach but the need to heave was unrelenting. He slipped to his knees and leaned heavily on them as he let his body go out of control. The aches and pains he'd been carrying with him hurt even more but he couldn't even begin to think of them; what Joe went through was so much worse. It felt wrong to even think about them.

"Frank?" his father gently pushed the door open. "Frank? Are you ok?"

Frank laughed a little. "Oh yeah Dad, I'm fine, this is nothing compared with …" but he couldn't continue. His father nodded and without speaking helped his son to his feet and with cleaning himself up.

"C'mon, I need to get you home to bed." Fenton was ready for the rebuttal and he'd already decided Frank could complain all he liked, but on the way home none the less.

"Yeah, I need to sleep" Frank's acquiescence took him by surprise but he quickly recovered to agree with him, not making it into too big an issue.

They stopped and saw Joe on the way and Callie just nodded. Frank realized his father had already set this up and he was now officially being "handled" something he detested at the best of times. He didn't let on and he didn't complain. Let them think what they wanted, he was tired of arguing and being watched; the only way he could help Joe was to get out of here…

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

**The Watcher**

_b__y: HardyGirls_

_Disclaimer: They're not mine but it's nice to dream…_

_Chapter Two_

_-00-_

_Authors Note: My apologies, I've been getting my genres mixed up a little and there is a tiny correction to Frank's eye color in chapter one. I've read the books but still have TV Frank in my head hence the blue eye reference. This has been fixed now… _

They traveled home from the hospital in silence. Frank stared straight ahead, his arm held protectively around his ribs. His father turned to look at him from time to time, opting to bite his tongue for the moment and not push things. This wasn't the usual reaction from Frank. _Usual… how ironic to be using the word "usual" for behavior relating to Joe being almost killed and hospitalized._ He sighed away the thoughts that anything his family had been through because of his profession was usual. Part of him wanted to lash out at Frank and make him see sense that none of this was about him failing to protect his brother. He was just so scared for Joe, sickened by what had been inflicted on his youngest and yet here he was driving Frank home, unable to get a word out of him. He'd learned long ago how to wash away the guilt of having to worry about one more than the other at times. Right now Joe was getting all the support he needed. Right now Frank was his prime objective.

"It's not your fault." The words were out of his mouth before he really thought about the comment. He kept his eyes on the road mentally kicking himself that he'd just mused out loud. Frank continued to stare ahead. Fenton wondered after a time if he hadn't perhaps even heard him.

"I know… but I feel it" the low reply took him a little by surprise. But a doorway was a doorway even if it was only a crack.

"Frank, talk to me son, don't kept this inside." So much for the "measured response" of wait and support he'd been going to try. He hoped he'd get through to him.

Frank sighed and shook his head, looking towards his father for the first time. "I'm fine Dad, you don't need to be thinking about me… I just can't get what they've done to Joe out of my head."

Fenton was relieved somewhat and for the first time that day felt a degree of relief. "Joe needs us, yes he does… but we need you and whether you like it or not Frank, you need us and right now." His words were kindly spoken and he'd managed to keep the angst that was roaring through him from finding it's way into them for the moment. There was a long pause.

"I know Dad, thanks… I'm fine really… I just need a hot bath and some Tylenol and I'll be fine."

"I wish your mother was here." There was another pause.

"I don't. I don't want her to see Joe right now; it'd break her heart. Did you call her yet?"

"No; tonight I'll call her now that I have some kind of news. She can't get back straight away anyway and hopefully Joe's out of the woods now." Frank couldn't help but notice the white of his father's knuckles on the steering wheel.

"She's wanted to do this cruise thing for so long and it's only going to be for two weeks, I just didn't want to spoil it unnecessarily." His father continued.

Frank raised an eyebrow and eyed his father. "You are going to be so in it when Mom finds out aren't you?"

His father returned the raised eyebrow and let out a deep breath. "You just let me take care of your mother…. I'll call you if…." His voice trailed away.

"You need reinforcements?" It was the first glimmer of a smile Fenton had seen in days.

The conversation was halted as Fenton turned into the driveway of their Bayport home to find Aunt Gertrude pacing the front porch, her face pale with worry.

Frank bit his lip. "But you did have time to fill Aunt Gertrude in didn't you?"

Fenton turned off the engine and rested his head on his hands a moment. "Just deal with it Frank, please"

Frank wasn't sure if his father meant deal with Joe or Aunt Gertrude but his musings were cut short but a sudden rapping on his window.

"Frank! Get out of that car! – are you hurt? Come in side! – How's Joseph doing? Oh, my poor boys! – Fenton, you look like death warmed up! Come inside this instant!" Aunt Gertrude was sprightly for her age and had both her brother and nephew bustled into the house with little resistance.

_-00-_

Frank felt numb. His Aunt had fussed and clucked over him, first sending him for a nice warm bath followed by strict instructions to get into his pajamas and come right back down for his supper. It'd been a long time since Frank had been ordered into his pajamas and he smiled a little to himself as he climbed the stairs to his room. The house was colder as he reached the top stair. His eyes were drawn immediately to the closed door of Joe's room. His heart lurched and what little distraction he'd allowed himself fell away to be replaced by utter devastation and grief. The tears that he'd fought so hard not to let fall all day flowed unchecked and blindly he made his way to his and Joe's shared bathroom. He didn't care right now if he was found out or not. Right now the only thing he could do was weep.

_-00-_

The bath had been a good thing. He'd managed to relax a little and slowly examined the bruises that were now starting to appear on his body. The one on his side bothered him the most and he had a feeling he was really nursing a little more than bruised ribs. He didn't care though; a little pain was nothing compared to what Joe had been through and at that thought the fire in his belly ignited again. He'd already planned his evening; now he just had to let it play out.

Getting through supper was a little harder than he'd hoped with all of Aunt Gertrude's fussing. Though her intentions were good Frank found his strength waning and the constancy of her attention. She didn't stop talking for much and Frank took what relief he could from the fact that it was ok just to say "mmm" every now and then or "I'll say" and she was happy to carry the conversation. As the plates were being cleared he stole a look at his father. Fenton was drained. It was the only word that popped into Frank's mind. Drained of everything; faith, hope and mostly belief that he could protect his family from bad people. Frank reached out a hand to him and covered the clenched fist beside him. Aunt Gertrude was still gabbling on but at least it was in the kitchen now. His father raised his eyes and smiled tiredly.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

Frank was surprised at the question and smiled warmly. "I'm fine Dad, I'm worried about you though… think you need to go take a bath too and get into your pajamas" he quipped gently.

Fenton closed his eyes but gave a little laugh. "If only it was that easy… no, I have work I want to do; files I want to go over."

"I'll help you." Frank answered quickly, his brown eyes fuelled once again.

"No son, you need to rest, an early night…"

"I won't sleep dad, I'll just toss and turn… let me help, please?"

Fenton looked at the earnest young man before him and wondered just where the years had gone. It only seemed liked yesterday he was quoting bedtimes and homework and now this young man was before him.

"Ok Frank, we'll give it an hour and then both hit the sack."

Frank nodded, rising gingerly to take his plate out to the kitchen. "Ok Dad, just an hour." _For you maybe…_ he thought to himself as he rounded the corner.

_-00-_

With dishes done and the hospital phoned for an update on Joe the two Hardy's settled into Fenton's study to work. Aunt Gertrude had brought in more dessert and hot chocolate and even when Fenton argued he wanted coffee he'd acquiesced immediately at the steely stare that came with the statement that he too required a good nights rest.

Finally, the house was quiet and father and son worked together to pull files that might have something in them to shed some light on who might have done this to Joe. Neither man brought up the point that this might have nothing to do with one of Fenton's case files. They worked on diligently.

Eventually after a number of hours had passed Frank crossed to the sofa and lay down, closing his eyes for a moment. His father came over instantly coaxing him to go to his own bed. With eyes closed Frank yawned and begged his father to just leave him there for the moment he was comfortable as he was going to be. After a small hesitation Fenton went to the closet and took out a well warn comfortable blanket and carefully draped his sleeping son.

"You call me if you need me" he told him quietly.

Frank murmured something and snuggled in a little more. Fenton turned and left the room, turning out the light as he went. He couldn't argue with Frank; he knew what the problem was; Frank didn't want to go up his room knowing Joe wasn't there. He could understand that and the sofa was a comfortable one so there was no harm done. He made his way to his own room to get ready for bed.

_-00-_

It was sometime before the house was finally silent. Frank lay in the dark, his eyes open staring at the ceiling. When there were no further noises for over ten minutes he carefully rose from the sofa to go and close the door. With the tiny click of the door lock finding its place Frank turned on the light. He yawned, taking the time to fold the blanket and place it over the arm or the sofa. Now he could get some work done. If he'd told his father what he'd intended he'd either have been railroaded into sleep or else his father would have stayed up as well. This way he could work with interruption and know his father was getting the sleep he needed.

What his father didn't realize was that for Frank the adrenalin had never ended and right now he was more than awake. He started at the A's and through the night meticulously checked and re-checked his father's files looking for anything that might explain this. After that he started through police files his father had in his possession.

Somewhere before dawn he ended his search, bothered by not finding a single case that was even minutely similar. He'd hoped to have found a lead by this time; something, anything, and been out of the house before his father and Aunt woke. He rubbed his head dejectedly. This wasn't part of the plan. He'd been sure in his gut that the answer was in this room somewhere. There was something he was overlooking but he couldn't put his finger on it. The sense of dread that had been boring a hole through his stomach burned a little harder. If it wasn't connected to one of his father's cases then… Frank couldn't answer the nagging question yet.

The early morning rays of the sun were stretching through the bay window as he turned out the light. Putting the files back in their rightful places Frank padded over to the sofa to close his eyes for a minute or two. He'd not long re-covered himself with the blanket when he remembered the door. The door had been open when his father left the study. Getting up quickly he managed to get it open as the first creak of floorboards from above could be heard. Jumping back on the couch and feigning sleep was actually quite easy now. The rush of energy he'd had all night had slowly dwindled and sleep right now didn't seem like such a selfish thing. When his father came to check on him he found Frank dead to the world.

_-00-_

Breakfast was a quieter affair with Aunt Gertrude satisfied that both her charges had had a good nights rest and not gone off to hunt down the perpetrators in the dead of night.

"You still look tired Frank, I think you should stay home today" Aunt Gertrude was saying as Franks thoughts were torn back to the present.

"What?, no, I'm fine Aunt Gertrude, just need a little breakfast and I want to get over to the hospital… Joe needs us…" He felt bad tugging on her heart strings but he didn't need his father jumping on the band wagon either, or looking too closely at the black circles under his eyes. His movements were getting stiffer now as the bruising and sore muscles were bereft of adrenalin and it had been an effort to appear chipper and refreshed when his father had come in. Fenton Hardy was a great Detective and Frank and Joe had learned from the best. Right now he had a great Detective to fool and it wasn't going to be simple, he knew that.

_-00-_

Callie had phoned earlier to give them an update. He'd mostly slept through the night and was continuing to improve so both Fenton and Frank were feeling a little more relaxed for the drive over. Callie had been heading home to bed and Frank promised to wake her later with any news.

Joe's eyes were closed when they carefully entered the room but opened immediately when he heard his family arrive. He smiled a little, but grimaced a little at the pain it caused. Frank rushed forward and grabbed his hand, staring into his blue eyes, searching for the truth.

"How'ya feeling bro?" he asked quietly.

Joe snorted gently. "I've been better I think." He sucked his breath in at the stabs of pain talking caused. He rolled his eyes a little. "Gosh is there nothing that doesn't hurt?"

"It'll be alright Joe, we've got you now and you're in the right place to mend son" Fenton eased around to the other side of the bed and carefully smoothed his hand over Joe's forehead. "The doctor's say you got some sleep last night?"

"Mm… a bit, they kept coming in though but yeah…. A bit, I think…" He turned back to his brother with a sudden thought. "Frank… are you ok?"

Frank could have cried on the spot. All the resolve and strength he was mustering fell away in a second flat and tears welled in his eyes. "I'm fine Joe, just fine; we're just worried about you is all."

"Can you tell us what happened son?" Joe closed his eyes and sighed carefully.

"It's a blur Dad, I can remember taking photo's… did you find the camera?"

"Yes" Frank told him. "Good going, I'd almost forgotten about that spot."

"What else Joe?" his father pulled his attention back.

"Umm.. I don't know there was this shadow, and I turned and there was nothing and then I … don't know really I woke up tied up… they wore.."

"They?" his father said quickly. "They? – there was more than one then?"

"I think so, all dressed in black from head to foot, even balaclavas and dark glasses… I couldn't see an inch of skin let alone their eyes." He closed his eyes.

Frank squeezed his hand. "If this is too much Joe, …"

Joe opened his eyes again, staring straight ahead. "No,.. just trying to think, it's all so fuzzy… and painful."

Frank's eyes met his father's across the bed. Both men had clenched jaws

"I don't know… they didn't say a word… I mean not a word… I remember yelling at them to tell me what they wanted…it's a blur after that."

"So they didn't ask you anything?" Fenton's brows furrowed. "Not anything?"

Joe took another shaky breath. "I've been over it in my head since I came too and I just can't remember anything…oh,… I think I'm going to be…" Before their eyes Joe lost his color and put his hand over his mouth. Frank spun around looking for a bowl and found there was one right beside the bed. At the same time Fenton grabbed for the call button and then he and Frank carefully supported Joe as he heaved. By the time his stomach had calmed there was a nurse in the room to take the bowl and a wet cloth appeared to wipe his mouth with. The two men stepped back to let her work.

Joe was spent and lay back on the bed panting, one arm around his stomach. "Oh that hurts…" he moaned.

"I'll give you something for the pain, Joe" the nurse told him gently. She eased the cap off a prepared syringe and added it to the IV bag hanging beside his bed. Checking the flow and squeezing the bag a couple of times she finished getting him settled before turning to Fenton.

"It's been happening a bit through the night Mr. Hardy. It's just that his stomach muscles are pretty raw at the minute. He should sleep again now. The doctor has seen him this morning already. He's in his office when you're ready to see him." With a gentle smile to Frank she turned and left.

Joe was dozing, his breathing still quicker than it had been but it was evident that the drug she'd just administered was taking affect. Fenton murmured quietly to Joe to sleep now and Frank told him he'd be back a bit later and not to chase the nurses too much. A tiny smile told them he was still with them. They stayed until his breathing was regular again and they were sure he'd fallen asleep.

"I shouldn't have pushed." Fenton Hardy berated himself once they were out in the hallway. Frank shook his head.

"No Dad, you didn't, we had to know… I didn't think I'd be able to be more worried than I was but I am. We need to speak to the police about this right away. What if this loon tries again?" Fenton kept walking without looking back.

"Frank, look back son, there's a plain clothes policeman sitting in the hall already." Frank looked back quickly and instantly regretted moving his head so fast. There was indeed a man sitting in the hallway reading a magazine. His eyes bored through Frank and it was obvious the man had been watching their every step.

"What? – you didn't tell me?" His father still hadn't looked back. "When did you..?"

"Yesterday Frank, as soon as we knew what had happened. You're slipping son…" he mocked gently, a little of the pride he was feeling for putting one over his ever vigilant son shining through a tiny bit.

_-00-_

The meeting with the doctor improved their spirits a little more as he told them that Joe had stabilized and he was pleased with his progress. They were still monitoring him carefully but felt optimistic Joe would recover from his attack.

As they drove home Frank asked his father to swing by Callie's place and drop him off. He wanted to update her on Joe and spend some time with her. Fenton Hardy hadn't gotten that old that he couldn't smell a rat. He didn't bother to call his son on it, rather he opted to appear ignorant, but firm.

"No, not now Frank, Callie's not been home long and she's sat with Joe all night; let her get some sleep, she sounded beat on the phone this morning. Besides, you need to rest up a bit yourself since you didn't get much sleep last night."

Frank looked at his father, he wanted to complain but knew his father was right. Flimsy excuse; should have known that one wouldn't wash.

"You're right Dad" he offered instead. "But I did get sleep last night…" he feigned ignorance but he was a little taken aback by his fathers suggestion that he hadn't slept.

"Last night was it?" Fenton continued, his face not giving anything away.

Frank stared ahead. He had no idea where this was coming from but decided retreat would be best. "Perhaps I should have a nap."

Fenton smiled angelically. "Now that's a good idea."

_-00-_

Aunt Gertrude relaxed instantly when they told her how improved Joe was and Frank excused himself hastily to his room to give himself time to think. It bothered him that his father knew he didn't sleep. If he'd just left it at "didn't sleep much" it could have just been him fishing, Frank did have dark circles under his eyes but no, his father had said "last night was it?" so he knew Frank hadn't gone to sleep till morning? Frank felt wrong footed and didn't like the feeling. He'd have to be more careful.

After laying on his bed for almost half an hour and become more fractious by the minute he decided his next course of action. He headed down stairs hoping he could make it to the front door undetected. Luck was not running on his side.

"Frank? Is that you?" his father called from the open door to the study.

Frank took a deep breath and entered the room.

"Hey" he said to his father.

"Hey son, going somewhere?"

"I … just thought I'd get some air… can't really sleep and thought I'd take a drive…"

His father nodded his understanding.

"You want to go back to the scene don't you?" he challenged the tired young man.

Frank sighed heavily. "Look Dad, as a matter of fact I do… there's nothing wrong with …"

Fenton put his hand up to silence Frank.

"I know… but I don't want you taking risks. I want you to stay in communication with me. We have no idea of what we're facing here. Can you pick up Chet or Biff on the way and take them with you? I'd feel more comfortable."

Frank nodded. "Fair enough Dad, thanks… I can't just sit here and do nothing.. you know?"

"I know son, I know… just promise me you'll not do this on your own."

Since the brother's van was still being examined by forensics, Frank grabbed his father's car keys and headed for the door. He tried Chet first and was delighted to find him at home and more than willing to come for a drive. It didn't take Chet long to figure out just where Frank was driving too.

"Umm... Frank? Should we be going back over here…?" Chet asked; the worry clear in his voice.

"Don't worry Chet, I just want to look around a bit."

"Yeah, but Frank? Isn't that what the police have been doing?"

Frank didn't really know how to explain it to Chet and he realized with a pang of sadness that the only one that really knew how he thought was stuck in the hospital. Though he had the company of a good friend he felt so alone.

After much soothing of Chet's rattled nerves Frank managed to find a quite spot close to where Joe had been situated and turned off the engine. He'd promised Chet that was all he wanted to do; sit and watch and think. When Chet saw he was true to his word he relaxed a little more. For a time they both sat quietly, their attention taken with the club that Joe had been watching before the attack.

There was a sudden knock on Chet's side window. He jumped at the sound; both boys had been staring in the direction of the club. He wound the window down a little and saw there was a delivery messenger beside him with a clipboard and an envelope.

"Sign here" the messenger told him, thrusting the clipboard through the window.

"What? Who do you want?" Frank asked, totally perplexed by this odd delivery.

"Sign here" the messenger told him again. He appeared to be quite laid back, not harassing by any means, more to the point he was getting annoyed that they weren't doing what he'd asked. He had other deliveries to make and these two were holding him up.

Frank took the clipboard and perused it carefully. Sure enough towards the tops was his own name and beside it was the consignment number he was to receive. Gingerly he took the envelope and without another word the courier made to leave.

"Hang on a minute!" Frank called out. "Can you wait a minute?"

The driver was back in his van and waving him off. "Gotta go, man" Frank watched as the van departed and quickly jotted down the license plate. The van itself was quite unremarkable; no decals or sign writing – just a plain white van.

"We gotta get this to Dad" Frank said as he started the car.

"Oh thank goodness" Chet blustered. "I thought for a minute you were going after him.

Frank made a beeline for home and the two boys rushed in as soon as they arrived. Fenton Hardy was still in his study so the boys quickly filled him in and showed him the envelope. It had typed writing on the envelope. "To Frank Hardy".

"This is weird Dad, I mean really weird… how did he know I'd be there?" His voice trailed off as Fenton set about carefully opening the envelope. Inside was a single piece of folded paper with typed words. Nobody spoke when the note inside was opened.

You're mine when I say you are

"The Watcher".

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

**The Watcher**

_b__y: HardyGirls_

_Disclaimer: They're not mine but it's nice to dream…_

_Chapter Three_

_-00-_

_Authors Note: Thank you for the neat reviews! I'm really thrilled you like it. I know the action part is a little slow but hopefully when the plot plays you more it'll have been the right way to portray things…_



The room was silent. Frank stared at the note in disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came. The gentle humming of his Aunt in the next room was the only sound that could be heard, belying the enormity of the threat they were facing.

Fenton Hardy was stunned. His mind was already systematically ticking through every possible criminal he'd ever been experienced. The sinking feeling in his stomach was growing by the second; he'd never known anyone to be this creative in their delivery. The phone rang suddenly, its shrill peal making everyone in the room jump. Mechanically Fenton reached for the receiver. Frank ran his hands through his hair and breathed out hard as he moved to stare out of the study window, his mind racing.

"Ummm... Frank?" Chet asked nervously. "What's going on? Is this the guy that took Joe?"

Frank didn't turn around. "I don't know Chet… part of me says this has to be the guy but another part of me says I hope it isn't."

"I just don't know how he knew you'd be there! I mean, you weren't even in your van so how'd he know?" Chet came over and stood beside Frank.

Frank just shook his head, his jaw clenched. His father ended his phone call and cleared his throat. "That was the police; Joe's camera was clean. There wasn't a single photo on it."

Frank stared for a moment. "But wait just a minute, Joe said he'd used it – asked if I'd found it; he wouldn't have done that if he hadn't taken a roll."

His father nodded. "I know, I remember; the roll of film though, was a brand new one. It looks like it was loaded but not used.

"This is too weird" Chet's frowned deeply.

Frank stared at the window for a moment before clicking his fingers at his father. "What about the camera? Anything?"

Fenton shook his head. "Not a thing, it's the first thing they did."

Frank nodded, closing his eyes. "I know, stupid question, I know they would have… I gotta talk to Joe about this."

Fenton sat and stared at the note a moment longer. "I don't know if that's a good idea Frank; Joe has enough on his plate. I'm worried that this will cause him too much stress knowing about this note."

"Maybe, but he's not going to be happy then when we do tell him."

The phone ringing once again interrupted their exchange. Tight lipped Fenton answered the phone only to relax visibly seconds later. It was Callie phoning for an update on Joe.

Frank looked at his father ominously, shaking his head. Don't tell Callie about the note. After a reassuring her, Fenton rang off.

"We need to tell Chief Collig." Frank said the minute the handset had been replaced.

"You took the words right out of my mouth son." As Fenton reached for the phone it rang a third time. Bursting with frustration Frank started to pace. His father said little to the caller, except "I'll be there shortly." before hanging up.

Frank raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"We have to get over to the hospital; Joe's not doing so well."

Fenton watched the blood drain from Frank's face. "What's happened? He was getting better?"

"I know son, we've got to go now." Fenton was already reaching for his jacket.

"I'm coming with you!" Chet added before either Hardy could ask the question and headed in the direction of the car.

Fenton waited until Chet left the room before continuing in a low voice. "Frank, he's had a bad turn, he's asking for us… I'll let Gertrude know we're heading out." As he passed his son he stopped and squeezed his arm reassuringly. "We'll get him through Frank, he's tough, we'll get him through…"

-00-

Fenton and Frank didn't speak much on the way over, each lost in their own thoughts and worries. Chet sat silently in the back looking from father to son; the note forgotten for the moment.

Arriving at Joe's room was different to their earlier trip. This time rather than being silent there was the beeping of machines and medical staff beside his bed. Chet waited outside to give Fenton and Frank time to find out what had happened.

The first thing Frank saw when he entered the room was his younger brother writhing, his pain obvious. The doctor beside his bed nodded at them in greeting but continued peering at the monitor and noting Joe's chart.

Joe had an oxygen mask on and muffled grunting could be heard through his gasping breath. His hospital gown was soaked through with perspiration. Grimacing, Frank watched his damaged hands clenching the blankets tightly, pulling at them for unseen leverage.

"Joe, we're here" Frank whispered to him, trying to get him to look at him. Joe's swollen eyes were tightly shut, the shallow breathing and writhing continuing.

"Joe!" his father ran his hands through his son's damp hair. Joe managed to open his eyes to lock on to his father. Fenton had to steel himself not to react badly. Joe's eyes were bloodshot, the deep bruises around them highlighting the vivid red.

Joe managed to push the mask off his face and fended away any attempt to replace it. "Dad…" he moaned closing his eyes as another tremor took him.

Fenton looked from Frank to the doctor beside him monitoring Joe's equipment. "What the hell?" Fenton hissed, the panic in him rising quickly.

"Mr. Hardy if you'll step outside a minute." The doctor calmly led Fenton from the room but not before Fenton eyed Frank and received an understanding nod. "Don't leave him" was the message and Frank got it loud and clear.

Frank looked back to Joe, unable to keep the worry from his eyes. "Hey Joe, what's doing?" he asked carefully, trying to stroke his brothers arm and slow the pace of his breathing.

Joe turned his head a little to see him; Frank was shocked by the level of pain he saw in him. "The… flow'rs… " He grunted. Frank turned to see a large vase of colorful flowers on the table by the window. Frank squeezed his hand and tried to give him a reassuring smile. Joe's eyes rolled a little as he tried to direct his attention to the blooms and shakily waved Frank to go to them.

"Who's been spoiling you then bro?" he asked lightly as he made his way over to the display. He didn't want to waste time looking at flowers now but Joe was insistent. There was a card still in its envelope and Frank's stomach flipped over when he saw the neatly typed envelope:

"To Joe Hardy"

Frank felt like he was caught up in a bad dream. With shaking hands he undid the pin holding the card and slid the tiny greeting card out. Expecting bad news then getting bad news was never the same and though Frank was dreading what might be on the card his heart almost stood still when his worst fears were confirmed.

"Roses are red, violets are blue; Get well Joe, I'm watching you…"

He turned the card slowly in his hands, looking for anything he could find that might give him a clue as to who was doing this. The card was plain white. There wasn't even an imprint from a florist shop and looking back at the envelope he realized there wasn't any of the usual advertising that a florist would normally employ on that either. He scanned the display of flowers to see if there was anything, but he already knew the answer. They were run-of-the-mill, every day flowers.

"Frank" Joe called weakly before breaking off panting.

Frank quickly stowed the card in his pocket and quickly made his way to Joe's side. "Hey…. It's ok, it's just some idiot, don't worry, we've got your back Joe, nobody's going to do a thing to you here. Dad's already got a guy outside so you just gotta lay back and get better kiddo." He hoped he'd be able to bluff Joe into settling down. He still didn't feel ready to tell Joe about the card at home; clearly he wasn't well enough for two shocks in one day.

"Not the …. Point… Frank" he ground out. "Sick…."

"I know Joe, I know…" Frank ran his eyes over Joe's agitated form. He wished his father would hurry back and tell him what had happened. He'd not missed the fact that when the doctor had left the room with him that a nurse had come straight over and taken his place at the monitors.

Joe carefully shook his head. "No… had to … tell you... you have to tell Dad…I'm… sick." Joe managed to pant out. Another wave of pain washed over him and he opened his eyes wide before sighing loudly. "It's worse …"

Frank held him as best he could whilst trying not to cause him any further pain. The tremor finally passed and Joe fell back exhausted.

"Did you get… th' photo's…" Joe asked suddenly, his eyes still closed.

Frank bit his lip. "Um… the police haven't…" but Joe cut him off before he completed the lie he'd been about to tell.

"Make… them… hurry… must be something… Joe told him, trying to focus on his big brother.

Fenton Hardy and Joe's doctor re-entered the room at that point and Frank could tell from his father's face that this wasn't good.

"Frank, Joe's been poisoned somehow; he didn't want to pass out before he told us."

"Poisoned?" Frank repeated. "How can he be poisoned in a hospital? There's a policeman right outside the door!"

"I know and we're doing all we can to double check everything..." the doctor interjected. "But Joe's blood work confirms he's been administered some kind of poison. We've started treatment but it would more comfortable for him with pain relief but he's refused until he spoke to you. You've got to get him to let us help him. The poison is causing painful muscle spasms and it's affecting his breathing. His body can't sustain this kind of strain for too much longer."

Frank was still having trouble taking it all in. The rushing to get to the hospital and the previous tense situation he'd found himself in had left its toll on his own battered body. The aches and pains he was managing to ease around were starting to make themselves felt in a way they hadn't up until now. Looking down at Joe he did his best to look positive and calming. "It's going to be ok Joe, we'll get to the bottom of this; you know Dad and I won't rest until we find who did this to you."

Joe pushed himself up enough on trembling arms to look past him to his father. "You don't understand… the flowers…Frank…"

Fenton reached him in a single stride, gathering his son into his arms as best he could and cradling him carefully. "Joe… son… you have to let them help you now… they can ease this son… you have to let them try." Fenton soothed his son gently and at the same time nodded to the doctor. It wasn't long before Joe's breathing started to ease and the oxygen mask was quickly slipped over his face and secured. Joe finally went limp in his arms and Fenton had to fight against the urge to stay holding him.

Frank felt his energy draining and was a little surprised to realize he felt a little light headed. He looked around for something to sit down on. When Fenton finally extricated himself from Joe's sedated form he turned to Frank and found him sitting with his eyes closed, his arm again protectively holding his side. With a final backward glance to Joe he went to Frank's side, crouching on the ground in front of him.

When Frank opened his eyes his father couldn't help but see a light sheen of perspiration on his forehead. Frank smiled a little, already knowing the look on his Dad's face. "I'm ok Dad, just still a little sore and tired…

Fenton frowned as Frank reached for his pocket, his hands exhibiting a slight tremor that Fenton hadn't noticed earlier. "Frank… are you feeling alright?" he asked, quickly raising the palm of his hand to Frank's forehead.

Frank pulled away and frowned back. "Fine Dad, look: Joe got a card from you know who. It came with the flowers over by the window."

Fenton saw the neat typing on the envelope and his heart froze. "Put it away Frank, we'll talk about it outside." His mind was whirling and he needed time to think. Also, he didn't want to discuss the case in front of other people.

Frank rose to his feet and started for the door. "We need to get on this, Joe's counting on us… wants to know about the …"

Fenton was taken by surprise by the slur in Frank's words. He started to get up to reach for him when he saw his son turn and look at him perplexed.

"Oh Dad…" Frank crumpled, hitting the floor before anyone could reach him.

_**To be continued**__**…**_


	4. Chapter 4

**The Watcher**

_b__y: HardyGirls_

_Disclaimer: They're not mine but it's nice to dream…_

_Chapter Four_

_-00-_

_Authors Note: Once again thank you so much for the lovely reviews, they are so very much appreciated and I'm just thrilled you like it._



Fenton watched Frank come-to slowly. His eyes fluttered a little and then he stopped; falling back into sleep again. He was so still and pale, Fenton couldn't help but watch the measured rise and fall of his chest just to assure himself that he was still with them. The emergency room doctor appeared and with a nod to Fenton checked Frank's vital signs. Frank flinched a little at the light that was shone into his eyes making the doctor nod.

"How is he?" Fenton asked.

"He's doing much better Mr. Hardy, he's stable and I think he's pretty much over the worst of it. We've got his temperature back to normal and given what we've seen with Joe the poison in his system is breaking down now. Thankfully neither of your sons has had a lethal dose."

Frank murmured and both men turned to him. His eyes opened to slits and closed slowly, his body still once again.

"He's going to do that for a while but he's close to waking fully; his body hasn't just been poisoned, he was pretty exhausted as well when he collapsed." The doctor smiled encouragingly at Fenton.

Fenton bit his lip and nodded, unable to return the smile for the moment. He kept replaying in his head the sight of Frank calling out to him and then crumpling to the floor. He took a deep breath and forced himself back to the here and now. "What about his other injuries?"

The doctor nodded. "You're son obviously has a high pain threshold. He's got several bruised ribs and from the examinations we've done he's got a severe abdominal strain and bruising. It's not life threatening but it must have been giving him some serious grief over the past few days."

Fenton nodded. "Oh yeah, it's not the first time, and with Joe so ill… this is why he wouldn't stop…" his voice trailed off as Frank twitched in his sleep. "My sons have a unique relationship." He continued when Frank once again settled. "I've never known two brothers or siblings of any kind actually, to be as close as my sons are."

"You must be very proud of them both."

Fenton shook his head. "You have no idea…"

The doctor finished annotating Frank's chart and moved on to his other patients.

Fenton watched him go and then turned back to be greeted by a pair of sleepy brown eyes blinking at him.

"Hey son, welcome back." Fenton smiled warmly and took Frank's hand in his.

Frank coughed lightly then grimaced, his other hand rising sluggishly to his chest. "What happened?" he slurred. "Why am I in ..." he started to take more notice of his surroundings.

"Sh… everything's fine, you collapsed in Joe's room but you're getting better now…" Fenton regretted the reference to Joe; he already knew what the next question would be by heart.

"S'Joe alright?"

Fenton smiled his most encouraging smile. "He's going to be fine, just like you are... you need to rest some more."

Frank sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Feel sick… tell me… I can remember feeling hot…"

Fenton looked around and caught the eye of a nurse and nodded to her. Frank's doctor was back by his bedside almost immediately.

"Hello there, so you've decided to join us in the land of the living for a while longer..." he said quietly, once again checking the young mans vitals. "How are you feeling?"

"He just said he was feeling sick." Fenton told him.

The doctor nodded, and picked up Frank's chart. "Now that's something I can fix, I'll have the nurse bring you something to add to your IV for the nausea. You might feel like that for a little while yet." The doctor asked Frank a few more questions and when he was satisfied everything was progressing well left father and son to talk, with the strict warning of "not too long, he needs more sleep."

Fenton sighed and against his better judgment filled Frank in on what had happened to him.

After he'd finished Frank was silent, blinking a little as his eyes continued to adjust to being awake.

"Did you see th'card? … I put it in my pocket right before I passed out." Frank asked.

"I've taken care of it already; both the note from home and the card in your pocket have been handed over to the police. Chief Collig is looking after the case personally." Fenton assured him quickly.

Frank nodded, his eyes closing again.

"Get some rest son, you'll feel better next time you wake."

-00-

Callie Shaw approached the emergency department with butterflies the size of elephants in her stomach. She didn't think she could be any further shocked than she'd been when Joe had been beaten to within an inch of his life, but now she once again felt the cold band of dread squeezing her every breath. Chet had called her as soon as it was clear what had happened to Frank. She was still trying to think positively but she'd already seen how Joe had suffered. She willed her mind away from her fears and taking a deep breath entered the waiting area.

Chet Morton sat staring into space and for a moment Callie's arrival didn't register with him. She came and sat beside him wordlessly. He quickly reached out his arm around her and hugged her.

"He's holding his own Cal, they think he's through the worst of it and he's going to be fine." Chet tried to consol her.

"Oh Chet! I just don't understand!" her pent up grief unable to be controlled any longer. It was the hug that did it. Until then she'd been able to maintain some semblance of keeping it all together. Chet was like a brother to her and his warm embrace melted what little resolve she had left.

"I know… Mr. Hardy's been talking to the police while Frank's been asleep. They've taken the flowers from Joe's room for analysis. Joe had been trying to tell Frank something about them and Frank was too when he …, well, when he got sick. Anyway, they've doubled the guard on Joe's door and unless you're on the list you don't get in to see him. The policeman that was up there feels terrible for actually taking the flowers from the delivery guy into Joe."

Callie wiped her eyes with a proffered hanky from Chet. "So is the policeman ok?" She asked.

"Um… I think so, just feels really bad about Joe and all… and now Frank… well… he thought he was doing the right thing by keeping people out, he didn't think he'd have to be interrogating flowers too." Chet's tiny attempt at humor worked and he was rewarded with a smile from Callie.

"It's just weird though, Joe and now Frank; nobody else who came near the flowers got sick?" She asked him.

Chet thought for a moment. "I know what you mean; it's got Mr. Hardy worried as well." He realized as soon as he'd said Fenton Hardy was worried that all his attempts to lift Callie's spirits had been for naught. "Oh, Callie I didn't mean…"

She closed her eyes and tried to smile a little for him. "I know what you mean… of course Mr. Hardy is beside himself with worry."

Chet nodded, relieved at her fortitude. "They took Frank and Joe's blood away too – for analysis. The hospital knows that it is poison, but they don't know what kind really. They said it might be a combination of more than one. Either way, they've managed to combat all the symptoms and keep them both stable so that's the main thing." Chet stretched his neck, grimacing at the crick that had started to form. It had been some time that he'd been sitting in the one place and right about now his stomach was starting to make itself be known and demand food. "Say, now that you're here I might just slip to the canteen and grab something to eat… if you don't mind that is?"

Callie Shaw was familiar with Chet's appetite but suppressed her desire to smile. "No, I'll be fine, you go though… I'll be right here waiting for news." Callie unwrapped herself from his warm embrace and prodded him to go.

"Thanks Cal, I won't be long." With a quick look towards the emergency room doors he headed off on his quest.

Callie sat with her arms wrapped around herself. It'd been a long day and now with evening approaching she felt weary. She couldn't remember a time she didn't know Frank and Joe and Chet. Their circle included other close friends too but Callie had always been drawn to the Hardy brothers; in particular Frank. She thought about his deep brown eyes and ready smile. He had an infectious laugh, not more apparent than when he was teasing Joe. She thought back to the last time she and Frank had been out on a date together and for a moment lost herself in her memories.

The whoosh of the door opening broke her reverie and she looked up expectantly. Chet was back with two steaming cups and a bag with sandwiches.

"I got you a hot chocolate just in case… and a sandwich too." He said setting the cups down on the table beside her.

"Who's with Joe?" Callie asked sipping her drink as Chet un-wrapped a sandwich.

"He's sleeping; the doctors have said no visitors for the moment. Mr. Hardy has police protection guarding the door and the nurse told me she'd come find one of us as soon as Joe woke and could have visitors.

"I haven't seen him since I left this morning; I thought he was on the mend." Callie mulled.

"Hmm... I think everyone did until the whole poison thing. Still, I can't understand how it was only Joe then Frank? There were heaps of other people in the room, even Mr. Hardy, so why are they the only two?"

"Hopefully their blood samples will give the police the answer…" the two friends sat and sipped their drinks in silence.

-00-

Hours later, Callie and Chet were jolted by the sound of the emergency room door opening.

Fenton Hardy smiled at the two friends and before either one could speak raised his hands to silence them.

"He's going to be fine; he's over the worst of it and woke up a little while ago."

Chet slumped back in his chair his eyes closed. "Oh thank goodness!" he exclaimed.

Callie was on her feet and grabbing for Fenton's hands, her face searching his trying to reassure herself that he'd really said what she'd hoped for. "He's going to be fine Callie, really fine." He could see the tears welling in her eyes and reached out to draw her into a hug.

"He's sleeping now, they're going to keep him down here for a while longer where they can monitor him and if all goes well he might even come home tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? That soon?" Chet squeaked. "But he was poisoned…?"

"I know, but as far they can tell Frank wasn't exposed to as much as Joe was; he's improving better than they'd hoped." Fenton reassured him.

Callie shook her head in disbelief. "I really thought I'd be visiting two of them in intensive care."

"Well thank goodness that's not the case." Chet told her. "Mr. Hardy have you had any news from the police?"

"Chief Collig has left me a message so I'm heading off to telephone him now. Why don't you two head home too, I really appreciate you coming but you need some sleep too; Frank and Joe both are." Fenton told the pair. He expected they'd planned on camping out like they always did when one of them was in the hospital but he could see the toll that the last few days had taken on them. There was nothing to be gained by staying.

Chet wasn't going to be put off that easily. "Yes, but what about if …" his voice trailed off as two more people entered the waiting room and sat down. He lowered his voice. "What about if you-know-who tries something?" he hissed.

Fenton nodded gravely and lowered his own voice. "I agree, but that's what those two gentlemen are here for." Chet's eyes opened wide; he couldn't help but look over at the two men sitting very close, he realized now, to the emergency room door. They nodded to him, having already recognized Fenton Hardy and turned their attention back to their magazines.

"They're in good hands, c'mon, you two need to get some rest. I'll call you the minute I hear anything." Fenton told the pair as he started to usher them out.

-00-

By most standards Fenton Hardy was a practical man and not one prone to bouts of paranoia without good reason. That night however he couldn't get rid of the feeling he was being watched. As he drove along the nearly deserted streets of Bayport he was constantly scanning for anyone that might be following him. A couple of times he was sure he was being followed but at the last minute the vehicle in question would turn off at an intersection leaving the mature detective feeling annoyed with himself for being so jumpy.

The trip home was uneventful but the feeling persisted until he was safely locked inside his family's home.

Gertrude had stayed up and this time Fenton was glad of the company, not to mention the fine supper she'd prepared. To her nephews, Gertrude might just be their aging Aunt with strong views and an even stronger grip on their collars when she needed to but to Fenton this was his older sister. What his sons didn't really get was that Fenton and Gertrude had been good friends just as Frank and Joe were. The only difference was Gertrude hadn't followed Fenton in his calling. She was however always there when he needed her, and given some of the hair-raising cases he'd been involved with it was testament to her strength of character that she was always completely in control no matter what was thrown at her.

Before sitting down to eat Fenton called the station and was immediately put through to Chief Collig.

"Fenton! How're the boys doing?" the Chief asked quickly.

"Better thanks, they're going to be fine. We're grateful too for the officers at the hospital. It means I can leave without worrying about that part of it." Fenton told him.

Ezra Collig assured him no thanks were required. He like many of the officers at the Bayport Police Station had taken a shine to the two young detectives and was more than happy to help when needed.

"I've got to tell you though Fenton, you and your boys have got to watch your step. This isn't good news."

"What have you found out?" Fenton gripped the receiver tightly.

"Firstly, you can rule out the flowers. It wasn't them. The card however that came with them was laced with something pretty nasty. There's no question how they were poisoned; it was through contact with that card. The envelope itself is fine though."

Fenton had been standing beside his desk but moved now to sit down. "That's why none of the hospital staff have been affected."

Fenton thought back to the staff statements that had been taken; when the flowers had been delivered an unsuspecting Nurse had un-pinned the card from the display to let Joe read it. She'd thought it might cheer him up.

"We've told the hospital, they're checking on the nurse that handled Frank's clothes to get the card. Apparently she went off shift not long after." Ezra continued.

"What about the notes?" Fenton asked.

"Nothing, no prints, and before you ask the typewriter that's been used fits the most common brand there is; just about every office in Bayport has one."

Fenton was silent for a moment. Then he remembered Frank's conundrum. Can you re-check that roll of film from Joe's camera; Joe told Frank he had definitely taken a full roll. It doesn't make sense that your people say it was a new roll."

"Already done Fenton, it was new alright; I'd say he's forgotten to wind on the new roll before he started taking photos." Ezra Collig told him apologetically.

Fenton shook his head but didn't push the point. He wasn't even sure if it was a point to push. "This guy's good at covering his tracks I'll give him that."

"He's also someone I wish your boys had never met. Fenton, we've seen this sort of note before. Problem is up until now the note has always been attached to a dead body."

Fenton's stomach lurched. The two men discussed the clues, or rather the lack of clues a little longer before ending their call. Gertrude had come to the door to lift an eyebrow at her younger brother. Fenton plastered on the best amiable face he could and followed her to the table. Suddenly he really wasn't that hungry anymore.

Gertrude poked and prodded through supper resulting in Fenton finally deciding to tell her the complete truth. He'd half expected her to be as frantic as she was when Joe was first found but it was not the case. In stark contrast she sat silently, absorbing the disturbing information before asking calm questions. The two discussed the recent events until neither could keep their eyes open any longer. With supper cleared away Fenton gave his sister a kiss on the forehead and headed for his bedroom.

On opening the door he smiled at the neatly turned down blankets and made a mental note to tell Gertrude she shouldn't wear herself out spoiling him. His smile fell though when he saw the small white card lying on his pillow. He stood frozen to the spot, the sound of his thumping heart crashing in his ears. He forced himself forward to read the neatly typed lines.

"And to all a good night…"

All of a sudden his paranoia didn't seem so far fetched.

-00-

_To be continued._


	5. Chapter 5

**The Watcher**

_b__y: HardyGirls_

_Disclaimer: They're not mine but it's nice to dream…_

_Chapter Five_

_-00-_

Fenton backed carefully retraced his steps and backed carefully out of the room. He stood scanning the room while he calmed himself down.

"_Think man, think!" _He remonstrated. Nothing seemed out of place but still something didn't feel right. He forced himself to start a meticulous scan and to concentrate on everything in the room. The curtains blew gently making him realize the window had to be open. Oddly enough it actually centered him a little to realize that. It was a reasonable explanation as to how the perpetrator had managed to get into the house without alerting his sister to his intrusion. Fenton tried to pull his mind away from the real fact that Gertrude had been left completely vulnerable and an unsuspecting target that day while he was at the hospital with the boys.

Turning away from his room he moved quickly down the corridor to Frank's room. He stopped at the closed door, looking hard around the surround. He wasn't going to be surprised again. Satisfied he opened it and looked into the darkened room. It was silent. He tried to shake the emotion he was feeling and again forced himself to the present looking to the curtains; they were still – nothing open in here. The room didn't appear to have been entered. The room was as he expected; neatly made bed, the writing desk tidily set out. Frank's laundry basket was overflowing but other than that the room was neat and tidy. Frank had always been the tidier of the two. For a moment that little sense of normalcy gave him something to hang on to in his besieged mind. Moving quietly he made his way into Joe's room with the same calm approach. Anyone would have been forgiven for thinking this room _had _been burgled but you had to know Joe to know what the mess really meant. After his appraisal he stepped over the clutter carefully to locate the item he was looking for. Joe was the gadgets man; everything to do with cameras fascinated him and often there would be one in his room, in pieces or various states of repair. Fenton checked for film then left his son's busy room.

Fenton was anxious to check the rest of the house and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end at the thought he was being watched. He pushed those thoughts away and headed back to the master bedroom of the house; his and Laura's room. His stomach lurched at what it would have meant if she were here now. No, she'd have to understand not being kept informed. She'd be safer that way. Carefully entering the room he began photographing it systematically. He paid particular attention to the card on the bed and was fastidious about not touching a single item. When he'd exhausted the roll of film he made his way downstairs to his study. He needed to call the police first; then' he'd get Gertrude up.

-00-

"How are you feeling?" Frank opened his eyes as his doctor approached his bed and picked up his chart from the end of it.

Frank blinked and swallowed. "I've been better than this."

"Still nauseous?" the doctor had finished reading the chart and had reached for Frank's wrist. His eyes flicked from his watch to Frank's face waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, still sick" he admitted, feeling the need to swallow again.

The doctor reached for the thermometer beside Frank's bed and shook it down.

"Open up for me"

Frank did as bidden and held the glass rod under his tongue.

"It's hanging on a bit I'm sorry" the doctor told him. Frank nodded his understanding. "We'd hoped it would have passed by now." Taking his stethoscope from around his neck the doctor reached for the top of Frank's gown and placed the bell to his chest. Without being asked Frank took the required big breaths.

"You're chest sounds better, that's something" he pursed his lips at the washed out young man before him. Checking his watch again he took the thermometer from Frank's mouth and rolled it carefully in his fingers, lining up the mercury line in the light.

"Still not back to normal, but it's an improvement." He smiled encouragingly. Frank coughed and clutched at his ribs.

"That's another story Frank; what on earth possessed you not to get yourself checked out properly after your run-in with the bonnet of a car?" he folded his arms and stared perplexed at Frank.

Frank cleared his throat carefully, not wanting to cough again. "It wasn't life threatening and Joe was more important."

The doctor shook his head. "Yes but that doesn't change the fact that…." But Frank cut him off.

"You can't treat them anyway can you?"

"That's not the point…"

Frank was too tired to argue and with the strain of talking the reality of wanting to throw up again was making itself felt.

The doctor softened when he saw the obvious discomfort his patient was in. "It could have been worse than it is…if you'd needed surgery with that poison running around inside… all I'm saying is it's better to be safe than sorry." Realizing his words were falling on deaf ears, or at least defiant ones he left Frank for the moment to organize his medication.

Frank had his eyes shut on his return, brows knitted lightly. The doctor made short work of injecting the drugs into Frank's IV line.

"We're going to move you upstairs in a little while; we're just organizing a room. You'll be able to get some real sleep then instead of being constantly disturbed by what's going on around you here in the ER."

Frank nodded tiredly. "Is there any news on my brother Joe?"

The doctor nodded. "Yep, he's woken a few times and all reports say he's recovering quite well. Anyway, you can ask him yourself when you get up there." Smiling a teasing little smile the doctor patted Frank's blanketed legs and turned away.

-00-

Pamela Whiting had nursed the Hardy brothers on more than one occasion in the ICU so when the current situation had arisen she'd been asked to step in as a trusted member of staff. She was abashed that her superiors felt that way. Right now there was a severe restriction on who could enter the room and each time she entered or exited the room she had to prove her identity.

Joe had been awake now for almost an hour; the longest time for the entire day. Though it was the early hours of the morning Pamela took the opportunity to get him freshened up and changed into a clean gown. She could feel the tremble in his muscles as he tried to sit up to help her at her task. Quietly and efficiently she achieved her goal and had him lying back resting in no time. Though Frank hadn't recognized her the day before she knew that both young men recognized her routine and what they needed to do to help her. So in a way they did know her.

"Thanks Pamela" Joe sighed as he willed his body to relax again. He had to admit though, after having sweated out a fever it was delicious to feel clean again.

Pamela smiled as she cleared up the bathing items. "You're fine Joe, just rest for a moment; give your body a chance for those muscles to relax again."

Joe forced a smile. "Am I that obvious?" he asked ruefully.

She shook her head. "No not really, it's just is normal to feel that way."

"How's Frank doing?" he asked suddenly changing the subject. "There's got to be something else you can tell me?" he pleaded.

"Actually, yes there is, in fact he's being transferred up to this room as we speak. The ER doctors really do feel he's on the mend and it would be quieter for him up here to let him get some sleep…. So no talking after lights out!" she teased him lightly.

She watched Joe visibly relax into the pillows, a small smile playing on his lips. "Like we'd do that?" She snorted lightly. After checking his vitals and writing up his chart she turned the lights down leaving only a small desk lamp glowing. "Get some sleep Joe; I'll let you know when he's here."

Sometime later Joe woke to the sound of a gurney being wheeled into his room. He tried to sit up quickly but the room being shrouded in darkness limited his view.

"Frank?" he called, his voice hoarse from sleep. He didn't get an answer but Pamela was beside him suddenly telling him to ease back and she'd talk to him in a bit, they had to get Frank settled first.

Laying back he listened to the sounds of his brother being moved into the rooms' vacant bed. There was a swoosh of curtains closing then a light switched on within which allowed Joe to see the silhouettes of the staff. He tried to focus on where he figured Frank was laying but he saw no movement, heard no sound. Pamela was there; he could hear her gentle voice and knew she was now taking charge. The hiss of the blood pressure cuff told him she was taking his vitals and murmuring to him in a low voice but still no matter how he strained he couldn't hear a reply.

He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew the room was silent and only bathed in moonlight. The curtain to his brother's cubicle had been pulled back and he could now make out the comforting shape of Frank lying on his back. His breathing sounded even so Joe knew he was asleep. He bit his lip wanting to call out to him but stopped knowing this was best for him. Turning slightly he winced at the pull of his injuries. It still frustrated him how limiting his present condition was.

"Joe? Are you alright" Pamela was beside him, a small penlight torch lighting her way.

Joe sighed as deeply as he could. "Yeah, must have dozed off; is he ok?" he pointed with his eyes to Frank.

"He's fine, just very very tired; the doctor has given him something to make his transfer more comfortable. Your brothers suffering from exhaustion so right now sleep is the best thing." She whispered. All the while she'd taken the chance to once again do a vitals check.

"Man, I'm sick of this" Joe whined in a low voice.

Pamela smiled at him ruefully. "I bet you are, but it's better if we can do this when you do wake rather than disturb you all the time. I'll be quick I promise."

Joe felt slightly churlish for having complained. Pamela and indeed the whole of the nursing staff had been wonderful to him. He usually tried to block out the times he'd spent being "managed" by medical staff and some of the procedures he'd endured or woken to find he had endured. If he started to think like that he'd have been unable to ever face any of them. Instead he was always met with a ready compassionate smile and nothing less than totally dignity.

He started to mumble an apology but Pamela stopped him, smiling gently. "It's ok Joe, it's got to be hard on you; I don't know how you've managed to come through this with such fortitude. A lesser person would've thrown in the towel, but not you, I admire that." With a final tug on the blankets she had him comfortable and settled, melting back into the shadows of the room.

-00-

Frank blinked for a moment trying to un-jumble his cotton wool brain to determine what day it was and where he was. It was quieter than the ER but he didn't remember much about being moved. Remembering suddenly what his doctor had said he turned his head quickly to see if it was true. Even laying down a wave of dizziness washed over him and not for the first time he found himself clamping his jaws tight, willing his stomach to stay down. The headache behind his eyes throbbed a little louder as if to let him know it wouldn't be much that would set it off again.

Opening his eyes he was relieved and delighted to be staring at a much improved pair of blue eyes. The bruises were still there but fading giving Joe even more of a raccoon look. Seeing Frank awake, Joe broke into a huge grin, giving him a tiny wave.

"Hey big brother" he said simply.

"Hey little brother" Frank rasped, and then coughed at the first use of his voice. A spasm through his chest had him reaching for his ribs but it settled enough for him to re-open his eyes. This time the blue eyes he met were worried.

"It's ok Joe, just bruised ribs" he tried to placate him.

"Yeah, right; is that before or after the exhaustion and the poison incident?" Joe asked Dryly.

Frank grinned ruefully. "I'm fine really, just need a rest they tell me. What about you? How are you doing?"

Joe nodded. "I'm getting better. I can stay awake longer now that's gotta be an improvement!"

Frank smiled. "You needed it…" his words trailed off and he found it difficult to keep looking at Joe. "I'm so sorry Joe… for everything."

Joe rolled his eyes a little, stopping with a wince. "It's not your fault Frank! – gosh are we going to have to do this again?" he asked, real frustration showing plainly on his face.

Frank sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "No, I guess not, but I can't help…"

"Exactly right Frank, you can't help it; you didn't do this, so don't start ok? I've been going over in my mind everything that's happened – well, that I know that's happened and I'm itching to figure this out; are ya up to it?"

Frank opened his eyes again and stared at his little brother. When did Joe grow up into this self assured perky adult? "Hmmm… love to, just need to shut my eyes for a minute" he mumbled, the pull of sleep too great. The last thing he heard was Joe. "Lovely! And he accuses me of sleeping all the time!"

-00-

The Hardy household was overrun with people; a forensics team was dusting every possible surface for prints and Ezra Collig had come to oversee the operation himself. Fenton kept Gertrude close. She'd been shocked when Fenton came to her room the previous night and now with the adrenalin fading, real fear was taking its place.

She'd been over and over it in her mind, nothing had seemed amiss to her and she couldn't remember hearing anything out of place in the house. The thought chilled her. Her brother looked worn out; he'd not slept a wink and was now running purely on coffee and adrenalin.

"How are the boys Fenton?" she asked distracting him from his own thoughts.

"What? Oh yes, the hospital says they're doing well. Under the circumstances Frank is being kept in longer and he's been moved up to Joe's room. They don't know about this yet but the hospital staff have agreed to keep them as long as they need to. At least I know there they're both under constant supervision."

Gertrude cocked an eyebrow. "Frank is not going to like being kept in the dark Fenton, nor Joe."

Fenton glanced at her guiltily. "I know Gert but it's for their own good. I'll tell them everything after everything is squared away here. At least they have constant guards where they are."

His sister nodded in agreement. "I know; it's for the best."

The morning wore on with police officers coming and going. Fenton had handed over Joe's camera to the forensics team who had promised to develop the film straight away. A team of police specialists had combed the Hardy house looking for any other signs of entry but came up with nothing.

"You didn't leave the window open did you Fenton?" Ezra asked carefully.

Fenton took a deep breath. "You know I didn't" he replied simply.

Ezra pursed his lips and smiled sadly. "I know, I had to ask though. It's not every day we're working with someone as astute as you but the basic questions still have to be asked."

Fenton nodded tiredly.

"I've organized a locksmith to come over as soon as we're done here." Ezra told him, clasping his weary colleague on the shoulder.

Fenton shook his head. "No, don't… I don't want any loose ends. I'll get the place re-keyed myself with Chet's help. I don't want anyone else involved. This guy is very very good and I have no way of knowing if the locksmith you have come over is compromised or not."

Ezra thought for a moment then nodded. "Ok, well, if you're sure… I'll try and get back over this afternoon and give you a hand."

"You don't need to do that, you've got enough on your hands right now." Fenton dissuaded him. "Are there any other leads?"

Ezra Collig shook his head. "No, nothing… I've got to tell you Fenton, this guy is good; menacingly good. We're having trouble connecting the dots as to why Joe then Frank and now you have been targeted. No need to ask if you've been back through all your files in here."

"Again and again." Fenton replied.

The two men were interrupted by the arrival of Chet Morton and Biff Hooper. Both young men were neatly turned out in collared shirts and jeans but it was obvious that sleep had evaded them as well for some time.

"Hi boys, come in." Fenton tried to sound welcoming.

"Umm.. hi Mr. Hardy, my dad said you have something to ask me?" Chet asked worriedly.

"I do; I need to re-key this whole house; today. Is there any chance that you two could give me a hand?" Fenton clasped both boys on the back looking from one to the other.

"Well yeah! – Chet answered; relieved it wasn't anything more terrifying than that. Having worked with the Hardy brothers for longer than he could remember a simple request like Mr. Hardy's could have seen him on a plane to a snake infested jungle for all he knew.

"Great! I've got a plan so we're going to have to be really careful but I think we can do this." Fenton got a pad a pen motioning for the boys to come over to him.

"We need new locks for every door and window. Everything is going to be keyed. I don't want you buying everything at one store though so I want you to split up. Drive to the next town if you have to but I want you to be as unobtrusive as you can. If you go to a hardware store, buy half a dozen other unrelated things with the lock, and only a couple at each store. I'm concerned boys that this "Watcher" fellow will be following you. I don't want him to know what you're doing or realize what your aim is. You both need to separate so that he's not suspicious."

"F-f-f-ollowed?" Chet stammered.

Fenton tried to ease the nervous boy. "I know Chet, it's worrying but I if you keep your wits about you, you should be fine. So far it's only us he's targeted. I'm just hoping if you can do this then we can re-key everything without him being able to figure out what we've used. If we buy these at one place I'm sure it would take him less than a heartbeat to find out exactly what we've bought and how to pick the lock. This way at least it'll take him longer. I want to be ready for his next visit so I'm counting on this way giving me that time to be prepared.

"Wow" Biff said, letting out a low whistle. "This is good Mr. Hardy. The more we spread out the more targets he's got to keep tabs on. This is cool! We'll get the rest of the gang together and get them shopping too." Biff took the list from Fenton, his eyes glimmering with the satisfaction of actually doing something positive.

"Another thing too; Chet, when you get back, bring Pizza." Fenton instructed him reaching for his wallet to cash the boys up.

"Pizza – check" Chet said instantly, and then a frown appeared on his face. "Umm... why Pizza Mr. Hardy?"

"You're coming for dinner boys, Pizza dinner – I don't want anyone watching the house to think you're coming just to work on the house.

"This is a very very neat plan Mr. Hardy" Biff told him, nodding in agreement. "You've really thought through every angle haven't you?"

Fenton chewed on his lip for a moment. "I'm hoping so Biff; if this character as his name suggests, is watching us I need to give him more than one thing to look at; that way at least it might slow him down."

Gertrude appeared in the doorway suddenly, dressed to go out. Fenton raised his eyes expectantly. "Gert? Where are you off to?" he asked carefully.

"Fenton, the fridge is bare! I'm going to do the groceries – and yes, before you ask they _do_ sell locks at the supermarket!" she stated flatly, turning on her heel and heading for the door.

The boys grinned as their friends strong-willed Aunt headed out.

"I guess you didn't ask her first eh?" Biff asked carefully

Fenton screwed his face up a moment. "You might be right there Biff, you might be right."

-00-

Morning turned into afternoon and Joe was itching for Frank to awaken. The doctor had been in to examine both of them and Frank had hardly stirred. Joe looked on anxiously. He'd heard a little of what happened from Callie but didn't know the full extent as to what had been going on with Frank. He'd been stunned when he saw the doctor lift Frank's gown, exposing the angry bruising along his side. Gently the doctor prodded and palpated Frank's abdomen and seemingly satisfied re-covered him, pulling up his blankets.

"Doc?,how's he doing?" Joe asked as his own examination was being carried out.

The doctor smiled easily. "He's ok Joe, he's got problems but we're monitoring them. Right now he's sleeping the best he has in days so that's good healing sleep. Be patient, he'll be awake before long. Now you young man; you're improving every day which is great news. Before too long we're going to start getting you back on your feet. Don't try and overdo it though, you don't want a fall to cause a relapse now do you?"

Joe didn't reply but continued to stare at his older brother. The brothers had always worked together on cases and right now it seemed like they were all working independently of each other. Even their father hadn't been in to see them today. Joe was bothered. Pamela had said he'd called and got an update and told them both not to worry but still he couldn't help but feel he was out of the loop.

His thoughts were interrupted by a deep breath and a cough and his brother's sleep-filled brown eyes trying to focus on him. Frank blinked a couple of times, staring at Joe.

"Hey Frank, still here" Joe quipped lightly. The doctor smiled at Joe's levity and on finishing up his exam on the younger sleuth made his way back over to Frank's bed.

"Hi Frank, good to see you awake again." Frank didn't recognize the doctor and for a moment frowned, pulling back from his touch.

"Ok, easy now son, I'm your doctor while you're on this floor. Flashing Joe a grin he continued. "Your brother can vouch for me, I haven't managed to stitch his ear to his knee yet!" Frank flicked his gaze to Joe who was nodding and expressing great exasperation to his older sibling. Looking back at the doctor Frank relaxed a little, sighing deeply.

"Sorry Doc, just didn't …."

"Know me?" the doctor finished for him. "I know, but you two are safe here. The hospital has this floor sewn up so tight and you've got plain clothed policeman outside the door every second of every minute of the day; Goodness I don't think I've ever shown my ID so many times in my life as I have since you two became our guests!" The doctor waited until Frank relaxed a little more before attempting to re-take his pulse.

Frank accepted his ministrations in silence. After a few moments and a few more questions the doctor was satisfied he was stable and after writing up both boy's charts handed them back over to the day nurse to keep safe.

Frank needed the bathroom in a big way and seeing this as he was about to leave the doctor offered to help get him there. Joe rolled his eyes and grumbled as they passed the end of his bed and Frank was pretty sure he picked up pretty colorful descriptions of the tubes that were ensuring Joe couldn't get out of bed yet.

-00-

Frank and Joe passed the afternoon propped up in their respective beds filling each other in on the happenings of the past few days. Joe was worried to hear about Frank rolling over the bonnet of the getaway car and Frank's face was stormy when Joe once again recounted what he could remember of the beating he'd received.

"So, no markings, no scent, nothing you can remember?" Frank prodded.

"No, nothing; I've been over it in my mind a hundred, a thousand times… it was dark when I woke up. The goons were wearing black, including ski masks; and dark glasses – every inch of them was covered up. Nobody spoke, not a grunt, not a word. I knew I was in a room underground because I could smell earth but that's it. They had a light directly on me for the whole time, well, what I can remember anyway so I couldn't see past the light. The room was dark outside of that light. I remember being scared when one of them would loom out of darkness at me…." Joe stopped, taking a deep breath.

"Easy Joe…" Frank murmured, "Don't go back there bro"

Joe sighed deeply. "I know… sometimes I feel my heart race just at the thought of it."

The boys sat in amiable silence for a moment before Frank spoke again. "Joe, what did you photograph that day?"

Joe cocked his head to the side. "So the photo's got lost at the mall did they?"

Frank rolled his eyes marginally. "Of course they didn't but…." He told Joe the whole story concerning the roll of film.

Joe took it better than he'd expected. Scratching his chin a moment he stopped suddenly and snapped his fingers at Frank only to stop suddenly at the pain his bruised knuckles were radiating. "I know that was a properly loaded roll of film Frank! – it wouldn't have stopped at the end otherwise."

Frank thought about it for the moment. Joe was right. A poorly seated roll of new film in a camera would leave an unsuspecting photographer snapping away happily forever without giving the signals that the film was full. It would have simply sat in its spindle doing nothing the whole time.

"What I can't get a handle on is how'd this guy know to deliver a message to you that day with Chet."

Frank nodded. "I know, I've got an idea about that though but I need to get out of here first to follow it up. They guy that delivered the message was from a delivery company. There can't be that many in Bayport so I figure I'll just have to check out the whole lot and maybe get lucky."

Joe shook his head. "I'm not buying it; from what we've seen I can't imagine that guy being so stupid as to leave his name or phone number with the order for the delivery. Even if you get a description I bet it won't be him, it'll be someone else that this guy has used to make this happen."

Frank thought for a moment. "You're probably right, but maybe he's counting on that too. I've got to try; I mean it isn't going to hurt is it?"

Joe raised an eyebrow and stared at his brother. "Do you think you should lay low? I mean c'mon Frank, this guy could snatch you in a heartbeat."

"Joe, how many times have we had people try to frighten us off a case? It's not like it's the first time is it?"

"No, I agree with you Frank but I don't want you to end up like me, or worse end up dead. I'm just saying we have to be careful is all."

Frank thought for a moment, and Joe waited patiently. He could almost hear the cogs in Frank's brain ticking over. "Do you remember what you were taking photographs of at the club? Was there anything in particular that took your interest?"

Joe shook his head. "No, I was just taking general photo's of the club and the surrounds and then some of the staff came out and helped unload supplies for the club. To be honest it all seemed rather normal but I took the photo's anyway in case we found something useful later."

"Did you recognize anybody?"

"No, actually, not a sole… Not even George Trellan showed up."

Frank rubbed his eyes and yawned. "This is getting us nowhere fast; I need to get out of here…"

-00-

Daylight was fading fast as Fenton, Chet and Biff finished up the last of the new keyed locks on the Hardy house. The three of them were sweating and dusty and Chet had bits of saw dust in his hair from drilling holes in the doors and windows.

"And that… should be the last one." Fenton grunted, tightening the final screw by hand.

"Phew" Chet wiped the sweat from his brow. "That's hot work Mr. Hardy, but I think we've done pretty well to get them all done in such a short time!"

Fenton smiled at the two friends. "Chet, Biff; I can't tell you how much you've helped me. I couldn't have possibly done all this on my own today, not a chance of it. C'mon, let's get cleaned up here and get some supper.

On cue Aunt Gertrude appeared, wiping her hands her apron. "Fenton Hardy, are you going to slave drive these boys into starvation?"

"No, no Gert, we're finished, wow, supper smells good!"

As instructed Chet had brought back several Pizzas when he'd returned, but they'd been eaten hours ago. All three of them were more than ready for something else. They squared away their tools and made their way to the bathroom to clean up, grinning at the clucking noises Aunt Gertrude was making at the mess each lock had produced on her nice clean floor. There was sawdust and paint chips, dust and foot prints. She turned away in mock disgust but stopped at a light tapping sound. Her heart started pounding immediately and standing stock still she listened intently for a repeat of it. The tapping started again, very lightly. She looked at the newly locked patio doors and beyond, staring out into the inky blackness. To her relief she identified the culprit as the tree right on the edge of the garden whose long gnarled branches touched the patio doors as the wind blew. She watched the branch tapping for a moment then taking a deep breath turned and headed back to the sound of the three men talking in the dining room.

She didn't see the grinning face watching her unease, nor did she didn't hear his low cynical chuckle.

_To be Continued__…_


End file.
